


But... not really

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of theWest Wing Fanfiction Central, a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in theannouncement post.





	But... not really

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

The Schedule: But... not really By Jenna

Disclaimer: Like you thought they were mine or anyone would pay me for this? Rating: PG Feedback: Encourages me to write not shop...

(Voiceover) Previously in 'The Schedule': The Setup, Week Five, Special Dispensation, A Memorable Event, Safe Harbor, Shared Dreams, Memorial, Memories, Dispositions, Depositions, Declarations, Defiance, Legacy, Fire and Water [Wherein Donna's diary was handed over to the Cliffster and the President and Josh talked about jumping in without thought of the consequences.]

Note: 'Happy Birthday Mr. Lyman' and 'The Motorcade', which precede 'The Schedule', are also part of this universe.

* * * Wednesday, Week 15, Washington DC * * *

Josh Lyman sat at his desk and reflected on the events of the last year. A year ago at Thanksgiving he and Sam and Toby had jokingly suggested that the kid from the turkey farm place two live turkeys in CJ's office for the weekend. Fortunately Donna told them not to be idiots and they hadn't had to follow through with it. Instead, they'd sneaked the turkeys into CJ's office just in time to surprise her the Monday before Thanksgiving. A destroyed Press Secretary's office would have just been just the ticket to convince Congressman Bruno and the House Oversight Committee that the Bartlet staff really were a bunch of 'teenagers' unfit for their exalted positions. Heaven knew the Republican majority thought poorly enough of them without adding that to the list.

Over the past year, he'd weathered a battle with post-traumatic stress disorder, the devastating loss of a member of the White House staff, the revelation that the president they all worshiped was suffering from MS and had hidden it from them... In addition, Josh had to face a public airing of his mental health issues, and the removal of his assistant --his right-hand-- Donnatella Moss, from his staff. On the plus side, he was just a few short weeks from marrying said former assistant, so all in all he couldn't say it'd really been all that bad a year.

"You ready?" Donna asked from the doorway to his office. She had her coat and gloves on and was holding his coat.

"Yeah. Did you get the info for Faragut's flight?"

"Yes, and I called his office and told them that you'd be looking for him at the closest bar to his gate," she replied holding his overcoat so he could slip his arms into the sleeves. "Did you call your mother?" she asked turning him to face her and adjusting his scarf.

"Yes," he mock-whined at her treating him like a little boy. "She'll be expecting us about 10:00. I can't believe she sold the house..."

"Josh, your mother moved to Florida, deal with it. It's not like you ever even lived in that house."

"Yeah..." he sighed opening the door to leave the West Wing and head for the security gate. "It's just... it's Connecticut... It's my parents *together* in that house. It's watching the game with my dad while my mom fussed over us... It's... it's what I think of when I think of home."

Donna took his arm with both hands, squeezing slightly as they walked to the parking lot realizing that Josh felt like he'd lost his connection to his late father with the house. "It's our turn to make the memories now. Next year, let's have your mom up for Thanksgiving. We can have Toby and CJ and Sam and --well-- whoever" she and Josh grinned at each other about hapless Sam's revolving door of love interests who never quite seemed to stick. "You know what? We should have people over for Christmas dinner... Your mom'll be here for the wedding, and if she's there, maybe Leo would come..."

"You're not thinking about trying to fix my mom up with Leo are you?" Josh queried as he unlocked the car.

"No," she drawled the word to ridicule the thought. "Although it's not really a bad idea. She's not that much older..." she smiled at Josh's scowl. "I just mean he's not really inclined to hang out with the younger staff. He likes to keep that distinction that he's the father figure: we're the kids. If Mary's there, he might feel more comfortable. It's not like we can invite the Bartlet's over to keep him company."

"Yeah: the Bartlet's and a security detail to do a sweep of the block. The neighbor's would love that."

"Anyway, stop whining. We got to New England in September."

"It's not the same. The President's farm is *not* 'New England'. It... it looks like something from Virginia," he complained.

"True, but what'd'ya expect. They've had over 200 years to smooth out the rough edges."

"I like the rough edges. It's in our blood. It makes us New Englanders the 'salt of the earth'. It defines us as a people."

Donna turned to look out the car window and smiled at Josh's envisioning himself as a crusty New Englander, descended from generations of salty sea captains. "You got a lot of whalers in your family tree there, Josh?"

Josh frowned at being called up short in his flight of fancy. "Anyway, their farm isn't 'New England'. And why is it called 'Manchester'. The mansion's in 'Manchester', why not say 'The Farm' when we mean, you know, the farm.

"I though the farm was called 'Manchester'?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"No, I mean, I thought that was its name. Like 'Green Acres'.

"You thought the President called his farm 'Manchester'? What kind of name is that for a farm?"

"Knowing the President?"

"Fair point. It makes more sense than calling it Manchester when it's 40 miles from Manchester, that's for sure," Josh replied pulling into the airport-parking garage.

"Maybe he named it after the 'Manchester School'?"

"The 'Manchester School'? " Josh responded incredulously as he opened the trunk and handed Donna his backpack and the small carry-on bag.

"It was a group of Parliamentarians and businessmen in the early 1800s who supported free trade as a step towards world peace."

"You're making that up, right?"

"I looked it up. I thought there must be a reason he called the farm 'Manchester' when it's nowhere near Manchester. I thought maybe there was a great economist 'Herbert Manchester' or something, but the Manchester School was all I could find."

"It sounds nerdy enough. Run it by Sam when we get back. See if he bites." Josh carried the two larger suitcases to the curbside check in and handed them over to the skycap.

Josh and Donna had an uneventful flight to Atlanta. They headed to the gate where the DeKalb County DA was expected to be awaiting his flight to DFW. Donna spotted the heavy-set man entering the bar and pointed him out to Josh.

"And it's pronounced DeCobb, Josh," Donna corrected.

"It's spelled 'DeKalb', like in Illinois."

"That's not how it's pronounced here, though."

"Does it really matter?"

"Only if you want their votes next fall."

"Not much chance of that, anyway. We didn't take Georgia last time even with a southerner on the ticket.

"We didn't take *Texas* with a *Texan* on the ticket," Donna responded rolling her eyes.

"Thanks for reminding me," Josh scowled.

"Go on. I'll call the office."

"Yeah." Josh went and spoke to the DeKalb DA about assurances he wouldn't seek the death penalty for a 13-year old killer who had been spirited to Italy to avoid prosecution.

The Italian authorities wouldn't extradite the boy without that assurance, and without the boy there would be no case. In a state where the death penalty was widely supported, it would still be highly unlikely that any 13 year-old would ever be certified as an adult so that the death penalty could be considered, but the DA was walking a fine line. He couldn't, and didn't, oppose the death penalty. To even appear to oppose it would be to write off his political hopes. Conversely, he could not risk appearing to be lenient on the basis that the kid was white and well off. Historically, certification of a minor as an adult, and thereby subject to adult sentences, had been imposed far too many times on the poor and the minorities -- white middle class youngsters were 'just being boys' or were 'troubled' and in need of help, not prison. The sizable black population he'd have to turn to for support in an election had had more than enough of the double standard by which the nation's laws were frequently applied. Josh offered the DA the names of campaign contributors in exchange for his private assurances to the Italian government. With the money for television ads, the DA could get the message out that he was neither 'soft on crime' nor a racist who chose not to seek the death penalty based on the killer's race and wealth.

Josh sighed as he drank his ginger ale. The death penalty should never be applied to a minor. Not rich or poor, not black, white, or purple. Anyone who wasn't considered to be mature enough to drive, vote, smoke, drink, or have sex, should not be considered old enough to be executed for murder. He was willing to consider the arguments for the death penalty in other cases, but not for some kid who got a hold of a gun and imitated a movie. Josh sighed again and went to find Donna so they could make the trek to their own gate in the neighboring concourse.

* * *Wednesday night, Week 15, Palm Beach, Florida * * *

Donna pulled the rental car into the Ocean Breezes Retirement Community. Josh was back to complaining about his mother moving to Florida.

"I don't understand why they build retirement communities in Florida where a hurricane is likely to hit. Can you just see them trying to evacuate all the little old ladies with their walkers and wheelchairs?"

"Honest to God, Josh. It's a wonder Leo and the President let you open your mouth at all. You're not satisfied with losing the South you're starting in on the elderly vote?"

He shrugged, "We never had the South. I'm just saying my mother was safer in Connecticut where there aren't any hurricanes."

"No, but there are snow storms and ice storms... It was getting harder for her to get out in winter."

Josh waved that off as a lousy excuse, "She just moved down here because Mildred and Milton Rosenthal moved down and she didn't want to miss her weekly bridge game."

"Josh! They've been friends for 50 years. It's not surprising she'd move down when they did. They keep an eye on each other. And it's a good thing too since she doesn't have her son around to rely on..."

Josh winced at that and didn't reply.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I know you love your mother and do the best you can for her."

"I tried to get her to move to Washington after the President was elected," he said softly. "I even looked at an apartment for her in a retirement community there, but she didn't want to leave Connecticut. So, it's kinda like she chose the Rosenthals over me."

"Josh," Donna said tenderly, reaching out to stroke his face, "she wants you to have your own life and not have to be entertaining your mother. Maybe in a couple of years we can convince her to move closer --keep an eye on her grandkids," she leaned in to kiss him.

"Yeah," he smiled at that. "What building is it?"

Donna pulled the slip of paper from her purse, "Building 3," she read, "Apartment 3-12. That should be... that one," she pointed.

"She's going to try to convince us to stay with her."

"She doesn't have room."

"Doesn't matter. We should have stopped at the hotel first and checked in."

"I guaranteed the reservations. You've already been billed for the rooms, so we *have* to use them," Donna supplied their excuse.

"Right."

Josh and Donna found Mrs. Lyman's apartment and were greeted with hugs from Mary. Keeping her company were her friends the Rosenthals, who had the apartment next door.

"Just call us 'M&M'," Milton Rosenthal exclaimed clapping a hand on Josh's back. "Good to see you again, my boy. So this is the fiancée we've been hearing so much about. Let me look at her! Quite the beauty. I didn't know you had it in you, Josh! How'd you ever convince such a dazzler to have you?"

"Now Milton, let the kids get settled in before you start in on them," his wife prompted.

"How was your flight?" Mary asked. "Was Atlanta as bad as you expected?"

"It's Atlanta, it's always bad," Josh whined.

Donna corrected, "It was fine. It was a good flight. Josh just had a full day before we even got on the plane."

"And how was your day, Donna? Is the President keeping you busy?" Mary asked.

"It's busier than when I was just working in HR, but not as busy as working for Josh."

Donna and Josh talked about their work for about ten minutes before the Rosenthals announced that it was time they headed home and let Mary visit with her son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

Soon after Josh and Donna started making noises about it getting late needing to get to the motel to check in. That's when they found out that their plans had changed.

"But I canceled your reservation for tonight!" Mary explained.

"What? Mom, I told you we'd just stay at the hotel."

"Yes, I know dear," she replied, "but when Leo heard that the sofa made out into a bed, he insisted that you would want to stay here."

"Leo insisted? When was this?" Josh asked suspiciously.

"Well, I didn't talk to Leo personally. His assistant --Margaret, is it? -- called this afternoon. Sam and CJ were both on the line with her and they were all talking at once about your coming down. I was telling that that you insisted on staying at the hotel when I had a perfectly nice sleeper-sofa you could use. I mean... it's not like you aren't getting married next month! Then Leo --at least I think it was Leo -- said something about canceling the reservation. Then CJ said it'd be so late when you two got in that you'd better just spend the night here. And Toby --or was that Leo?-- said something about you could stay in the hotel tomorrow night and that it was a one-time deal --which made no sense whatsoever -- and that I was to be sure to just change the reservation to tomorrow night... Then Sam said something about it being week 15, whatever that means... So I called and changed the reservation."

Josh and Donna looked at each other in shock.

"Josh?" Mary asked. "What's this all about?"

"Nothing, Mom. It's nothing. We're just surprised, is all."

"We'd love to spend the night here," Donna smiled her assurances, talking hold of Josh's arm and squeezing to remind him of his manners."

"Uh... yeah... we'd love to stay here tonight."

Josh went out to the rental car and retrieved their luggage while Mary and Donna made up the sleeper-sofa. Mary excused herself then and left Josh and Donna alone staring at each other over the bed.

Donna walked around to where Josh was standing. "You didn't tell her?" she asked quietly.

"I thought you'd told her. I'm not going to tell my mother I'm not sleeping with my fiancée. She's supposed to just assume I wouldn't do anything like that until her first grandchild arrives or something."

"You're a prude, you know?"

"No... No, I am *not* a prude. I'm just not comfortable talking about my sex life or lack thereof with my mother."

"You're a prude."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So, you think Leo set this up?" she asked putting her arms around his waist.

"I think Toby was the ringleader, with Margaret, CJ, and Sam as co-conspirators. But I also think they got an 'okay' from Leo or we wouldn't be here."

"It is week 15, we do get to sleep together -- once."

"'Sleep' being the operative word. Talk about making sure it's nothing but sleeping we do..."

"True. Not that you would have--"

"No." Josh agreed. He wouldn't have broken his oath to Leo. "It's just that this wasn't how I was planning on it... I was thinking tomorrow... at the hotel..." he pulled Donna closer and began nuzzling her neck.

"Well, we still have tomorrow at the hotel... And certain permissible touching..." she murmured in his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Umm... Better not remind me of that anymore tonight," he said drawing back. "You want the bathroom first?"

Soon Josh and Donna were snuggled up on the sleeper-sofa, Donna's head on Josh's shoulder and her hand under his t-shirt caressing his surgical scar.

"Is this comfortable for you?" she asked. "'Cause I can move to your other side if it bothers your side..."

"I'm fine for now. I don't usually get stiff during the night-- I mean... my right side."

"Well, if you start hurting, just shove me off you."

"I think 'shoving' might not be conducive to tomorrow night's plans."

"I figured I'd be sound asleep and wouldn't know."

"So if you start snoring--" he teased.

"Josh!" she started to sit up, pretending to be offended.

He pulled her back into his arms smiling. "I'd love you even if you snored."

"You'd never hear it over your own."

"I don't snore!" he protested. "At least, no one's ever complained... Do I snore?"

"No, I was just giving you a hard time." She snuggled up to him again. "This is nice."

"Yeah. And we wake up together for Thanksgiving..."

"Yeah," Donna replied. "There's just something nice about it being set up like this. Like it's been sanctioned by Leo and your mom and everyone."

"Almost like our wedding night -- but... not really."

"Still, it's nice of them to do this."

"I'm not so sure that was their intention..."

Well, intentional or not. I'm glad they did it."

"Yeah." He kissed the top of her head. "Goodnight."

* * * Thanksgiving Day, Palm Beach, Florida * * *

Mary Lyman quietly crept through the living room to the kitchen to put the coffee on. Josh and Donna formed a large lump under the covers, the tips of their heads peaking out. Mary's cat Oscar was curled up next to Josh. Donna stirred and stretched and nuzzling her face against Josh's back before realizing Mary was up. Oscar jumped up and went in search of his breakfast. Donna slipped out of the bed and joined Mary in the kitchen.

"Good morning," Donna said quietly walking into the kitchen to the sounds of Mary making the coffee and Oscar munching at his bowl of dried cat food.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Donna shook her head, "I'm used to being up at this time anyway. I want to let Josh sleep a while longer though."

"Has he been running himself ragged again?"

"When doesn't he?"

"So are you going to tell me what's going on?" Mary asked handing Donna a cup of coffee.

"Nothing's going on, which is what's going on."

"Excuse me?"

"Leo made up a schedule that says what we can do and when we can do it. If it isn't on the schedule, it isn't allowed."

"And Josh, my son Joshua, agreed to this?"

"In writing."

"Well..." she sat down at the breakfast nook in shock. "Well, well, well. So you haven't been--"

Donna shook her head and took a sip of coffee, "The schedule allowed us to *sleep* together once this week. That's what the mysterious phone call was all about."

"Oh, my. So they set you up last night?"

"That's about the size of it. Not that we're complaining though."

"No... I can see you wouldn't..."

"Anyway... it'll be a couple more weeks before... you know... then we'll move in together just before Christmas, then the wedding just after..."

"So tell me all about the wedding plans."

"Well, there's not much to tell. The plans we were making pretty much got scrapped when the Oversight Hearings started. No sense having 'em start in on the White House spending taxpayer dollars for a private party. You and the minister may be the only non-staffers there."

"You've decided not to invite any of your family then, dear?"

Donna shrugged, "If I don't invite them, they don't have to make up excuses about why they can't come."

Mary looked sadly at Donna and reached out a hand to touch her in an assurance that Donna was her family now. "What about a honeymoon?"

"If all goes well, we hope to spend three days -- or three nights, rather-- in Charleston. That's as long and as far as we dare attempt. We're keeping our fingers crossed as it is. We've got a weekend package for a bed and breakfast in the Historic District, so it should be nice."

"Won't it be cold that time of year?"

Not too bad. About 60, according to the brochure."

"And Josh isn't going to be politicking while he's there?"

"I don't think it's possible for him not to," Donna grinned, "but he's promised to keep it to a minimum."

"Are you sure CJ doesn't mind having me for the wedding? I can stay at a hotel..."

"No, no. CJ insisted that you stay with her. She's been trying to think of reasons why you have to stay an extra day or two. I think she's hoping you'll make one of your rum cakes for her..." Donna hinted.

Mary chuckled and replied, "I'll be sure to make her one for Christmas."

"Hey," Josh said wandering into the kitchen scratching his belly. He had slipped a well-worn pair of blue jeans on over his boxer shorts. He honed in on the coffee pot and poured a cup before leaning against the cabinets.

"I told your mother we were set up," Donna briefed him on their conversation.

"Ah," he looked over at his mother to gauge her reaction.

"I must say, it explains a lot," she smiled at Josh and Donna. "Here's to Leo!" she raised her coffee cup in toast.

"Yeah. To Leo!" Josh and Donna replied joining Mary in the impromptu coffee toast.

"I'm thinking we should call and thank them...." Josh said. "What time is it? 6:30? No time like the present," he grinned maliciously.

Mary chuckled. Donna grinned and made a quick trip to the living room to grab Josh's cell phone. "Who first? Toby?"

"Definitely, Toby." Donna pushed the speed-dial number and handed the phone to Josh.

Josh managed to wake Toby who yelled something about having finally fallen asleep on an air mattress and if his sister's kids woke up they'd be hell to pay. The conversation ended abruptly with the sound of excited young voices yelling 'Uncle Toby! Uncle Toby!' and Toby saying something about being to old to be a horsie and lamenting the good old days when women over 40 had sense not to start a family.

They got Sam's answering machine and debated whether they should try Ainsley's, Mallory's, or Connie's but decided he was probably just out running.

CJ answered on the first ring cursing Josh and slamming the phone down. Since she probably couldn't see to read her caller ID to know it was Josh, that generated a new round of speculation on how she could possibly have known he was calling... Since Toby as at his sister's (unless that was an elaborate ruse) then the juiciest speculative line was a dead end. Sam and CJ? Nah, no way! That was too ludicrous to even speculate about. They'd definitely have to dig into it some more when they got back.

Margaret turned out to be at her desk in the White House when they finally tracked her down. She serenely informed Josh that since he was calling in Leo would no doubt like to talk to him.

"Hey! What are you doing calling in this early? I thought you'd still be in bed."

"Uh..." Josh was at a loss for words. "About that... thanks... I appreciate it..."

"What the hell are you talking about, Josh?"

"Donna and me at my mother's... you... you didn't okay that?"

"Oh that!" he growled. "Margaret!" he bellowed holding his hand over the phone, but not blocking enough of the sound to save Josh's eardrum. "Get in here!" Returning to his conversation with Josh he said, "Glad you enjoyed it. I hate to cut your vacation short but there's something brewing between India and Pakistan again. I need you here tomorrow. That means you have to fly back tonight."

"Tonight?" he slumped and turned to Donna and Mary, "Leo needs us to fly back tonight."

Turning to Margaret, Leo said "get them on a flight back tonight... Oh, and Josh says 'thanks'."

"Tell him they're welcome," Margaret replied. "And I just want to point out for later that Mary Margaret is a lovely name."

"Get out!"

Josh overheard the conversation and smiled, shaking his head. He put his hand over the phone and told Donna and Mary that Margaret was now recommending nice traditionally Irish Catholic baby names for them -- which ought to go over well in synagogue...

Leo gave Josh a brief sketch of the situation developing between India and Pakistan over Kashmir and told him to enjoy the holiday but keep an eye on CNN.

"Hey, Josh..."

"Yeah, Leo."

"Ya know... this whole schedule thing is just about over..."

Yeah?"

"I just... I don't want you making the same mistakes I made with Jenny, okay?"

"Leo..."

"Hear me out. As long as you work for me, you're gonna be on a schedule so you spend some time with Donna... your family. Maybe if I'd spent more time with Jenny when we first started out we coulda made it through... later... when things got rough..."

"Leo... I..." Josh sighed not knowing what to say. "Thanks... thanks for everything..."

"Yeah... well..." Leo cleared his throat. "Just be back tomorrow. Oh, give your mother my love."

"Yeah, I will. Happy Thanksgiving, Leo."

"You too."

"Leo?"

"What now?"

"Donna and I would like you to come over for Christmas dinner, if you--"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Leo growled and hung up the phone.

Josh looked up at Donna and smiled, "Leo's coming for Christmas dinner."

* * * The End


End file.
